Digestive Dunking

It’s time for tea and dunking A crisp Digestive biscuit But before immersion into the hot beverage And to aid entry into my mug I snap the biscuit in half The contours of my broken biscuit Remind me of a Norwegian coastline With their fiords , coves , peninsulas and inlets I wonder whether the snapped shape is unique Or whether another dunker has ever Snapped or will ever snap the exact same shape A shape that would mate exactly with one half of mine To form the perfect Digestive circle With no hint of forced togetherness I surmise that given sufficient dunkings Over untold millennia and myriads of time By the laws of probability There must have been or will be a perfect mate In the same way surely That enough explosions in a printing factory Could produce the complete works of Shakespeare Or the union of two gene pools could produce an identical twin From different parents Great thoughts and musings Are prompted during dunkings But now it is time to savour My soft and warm Digestive fragment Which I must ingest quickly Before it becomes too tea –sodden and structurally unstable With the ever present risk of disintegration Breaking off and sinking to the bottom of my mug Such important ponderings must therefore cease